


A Lifetime is What You Make It

by lesbianscientist



Category: Zero Escape (Video Games)
Genre: Angst with a Happy Ending, Canonical Character Death, Established Relationship, F/M, Terminal Illnesses, too many god damn metaphors
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-12-26
Updated: 2019-12-26
Packaged: 2021-02-26 06:41:27
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,689
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21965119
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/lesbianscientist/pseuds/lesbianscientist
Summary: There are billions of different timelines that Diana and Sigma get to live in, each and every one of them filled with individual losses, joys, and experiences.Sigma dreams about living in a timeline that isn't the one where he was to watch the love of his life slowly wilt away in a cold, dark rhizome on the moon.--written for zecret santa 2019
Relationships: Diana/Sigma Klim
Comments: 2
Kudos: 28
Collections: ZEcret Santa 2019





	A Lifetime is What You Make It

**Author's Note:**

> this is a zecret santa gift for tumblr user @gavinnersroadie! from their list, i chose the prompt "diana's final days on the moon." it's not very christmassy, but it really was a great sequence to write! happy holidays! :')
> 
> please note that there are mentions of illness and death!

Sigma finds Diana in the biotope garden, kneeling in front of a bush of white chrysanthemums and stargazer lilies. She rarely got up from bed these days; he was shocked to find her missing when he woke up in the middle of the night, though it didn’t take long to find her. He knew she found solace in just a small handful of places. 

“It’s late,” he says, kneeling next to her and placing a hand gently on her back. Instinctively, he looks up to the sky, only to be met with the dome of the garden’s ceiling. A chill sweeps over him, but he manages to keep still next to Diana. 

“I know,” she says, softly running the pads of her fingertips across the chrysanthemums. “I wanted to check on the flowers.” 

“They look good,” Sigma says. 

“I think so too.” She turns to face Sigma and smiles softly. She takes his hand in hers and rubs her thumb over the back of his hand for a few moments. 

His eyes dart nervously over her soft features, taking in her sunken eyes and pale skin. If he thinks about the change in her appearance for too long, he starts to get light-headed. He quickly looks away from her, focusing in on the garden around him instead. 

Diana hums softly, and turns to glance back at the flowers. “Once everything blooms, this is going to be a really beautiful garden.”

There were some freshly grown and well-maintained bushes and flowers surrounding them— they both had spent the past few years wanting to make the garden a kinder place than the rest of the facility. There was less dread being in the garden that they had built together than there was in the cold, grey container of the rhizome. 

When Sigma used to sit with Diana in the garden, long before she was as sick as she was now, they would be able to be together and pretend, briefly, that they weren’t trapped on the moon. 

If Sigma closes his eyes, he could force himself to forget the future he would have to live. In this moment, he is with Diana, and there is no fifty-year long project that he has to perfect for the sake of the world. 

They could be together softly and serenely without the looming dread of knowing they are trapped on the moon while people are dying on Earth below. At the very least, Sigma thinks, he is trapped here with Diana— and if people on Earth were dying horrific, painful deaths, at least he was allowed this fraction of peace. 

There’s an ounce of selfishness bubbling up in the pit of his stomach that crawls up to the back of his throat, threatening to suffocate him. He takes in a breath, hoping that the air will swallow some of the guilt. 

If he thinks too long about Diana’s illness, about how the only good thing that has ever came to him on this god forsaken timeline may be ripped away from him, the anger boils up from his chest to his throat— though his practiced, calm demeanor around Diana has never faded. In front of her, he is the perfect picture of support; loving, patient and kind. If he is the last person she will ever know, he’d like to leave her with only his best. 

Though, when Diana is elsewhere in the facility taking care of her own chores, he allows himself the release to scream at the top of his lungs, fists slamming into metal walls. It leaves him on his knees, gasping for breath with his knuckles sore. 

More recently, Sigma has leaned towards holding Diana’s hand and looking away from her. It’s getting harder to look at her face and visually take in the reality of her slowly deteriorating— he may not be naïve enough to think she isn’t dying, but he certainly isn’t strong enough to accept it. 

“Don’t you think?” Diana asks.

Sigma snaps out of his thoughts and looks blankly at her. Even if her eyes are grey and sunken, they still show the same kindness that he loved— loves, present tense— when he first fell in love with her. 

“Sorry,” he says, shaking his head. “I forgot what you said.” 

“The garden is going to look really beautiful when it’s finished,” she says. “I wish I could be able to see it through.”

Panic wells up in Sigma’s throat again, and his grip on Diana’s hand tightens. “Diana,” he warns, voice heavy, “don’t say that.”

“Sorry,” she smiles, soft and airy as ever, “I just think you’re going to have a nice year once all of this is finally finished.”

Not without you, Sigma thinks. I don’t want a single second of any future without you in it. Without Diana, he can’t even fathom the possibility of a decent year, let alone a nice one. 

Sigma stays quiet instead, exhaling deeply to release some of the incoming anxiety. A few moments pass between them with only the sound of Sigma’s breathing and the flow of the water. 

Diana squeezes his hand softly, laying her head against his shoulder. 

“I’m a little tired,” she says, voice muffled against the fabric of his shirt. 

“Want to go to bed?” he offers. Diana nods gently against his shoulder. 

Sigma wraps his arms around her body, and picks her up with an ease that makes his stomach churn. He carries her to bed and lays her down gently. 

She reaches for the covers, but before she can grab them, Sigma pulls them up against her, giving her a soft kiss on the forehead. 

These days, it doesn’t take Diana long to fall and stay asleep. Conversely, Sigma wakes up every few hours, and waits anxiously until he can hear her breathing softly— call it a natural compulsion, but there was a part of him that needed the reassurance of her safety. With a sigh of relief, he closes his eyes and tries without much luck to fall back asleep. 

—

Sigma places a few pre-packaged meals onto a plate in the pantry, laying them out evenly before bringing it up to their bed. 

Diana moves to sit up, but immediately shakes her head and lays back down, coughing gently against the crook of her elbow. 

“How do you feel?” Sigma asks tentatively as he places the food on the bedside next to her. 

Diana closes her eyes and frowns, clearing her throat a few times before speaking. “Not very hungry,” she says. She opens her eyes slightly and smiles softly. “Sorry.” 

Sigma chews the inside of his cheek. “You should still eat,” he says nervously. 

“I will,” she says. “Eventually.” 

No you won’t, he thinks, and tries to swallow the nausea starting to swell in his chest. 

With the uncertainty of Diana’s condition and the only healthcare provider being herself, there wasn’t a lot of guidance regarding her stability. Sigma falls asleep nearly every night hoping against hope that she will be breathing when he wakes up. 

Choosing not to eat or not being able to get out of bed made the dread loom over him, knowing that the end may be near but not knowing how soon. 

Sigma sits at the end of the bed and listens to her labored breathing as they sit in silence for a few moments. He reaches out to hold her hand and gently runs his thumb across her open palm. She offers him a weak smile. 

“Will you make sure to water the flowers?” she asks, turning her head towards him. 

“Of course,” he says, gripping her hand tightly. 

“Try to eat something while I’m out,” he says. “If you can.” 

“I’ll try,” she offers. Sigma gives her a reassuring smile that doesn’t come close to reaching his eyes. She nods, and lays her head down. 

Sigma jogs once he’s out of the room, trying to reach the garden as quickly as possible. He would usually refuse to leave Diana alone, but she is attached to the garden, and he wants to do right by her while she can. 

He grabs the watering can, spilling some over his pants and shoes in his rush to get to the garden. Walking over to the plants Diana was by last night, he squints down at them. 

Sigma was never much of a botanist, but the crisp edges of the flower’s petals made him uneasy. 

He runs his hand gently across the petals, feeling them to be a bit coarser than he remembers. Not wanting to leave Diana for much longer, he shoves the thought to the back of the mind and quickly runs some water across them before heading back. 

He knocks softly outside to let Diana know that he’s about to enter and steps through the door. She opens her eyes and smiles, and he immediately sits next to her. 

One of the pre-packaged meals is open, but doesn’t look like much has been eaten. She looks exhausted, and so Sigma decides not to press it. 

He watches her intently, taking in the shape of her face. He looks over her eyes, nose, freckles, and mouth— it hurts to see her look so gaunt and pale— but he doesn’t want to forget it. As many years as he’ll have to live without her, he wants to close his eyes and picture her face with ease. 

At the very least, he’d like to be able to keep her alive in his memory. 

They have a life together; it isn’t a perfect life by any means, but since it’s his life and if he gets to live it with her, it’s the only thing he could ever ask for. In his mind, he knows and can rationalize that he will get to live a long and full life one day in the future if their project succeeds— but there is so much uncertainty that he needs to know in this moment that Diana is real. 

Diana existed— exists, now, present tense— and he loves her. While she is here, that is enough. 

“What are you thinking about?” she asks, folding her hands against her lap. 

“Nothing, really,” he says, swallowing harshly. “What about you?”

She smiles at him for a moment before answering. “I miss being a nurse,” she says, laughing quietly. 

“You’re still a nurse,” Sigma says, confused. 

“I’m not taking care of anyone though,” she points out. “I’m here, sick, and you have to take care of me. It’s maddening.” 

“Why?”

Diana hums in thought, and coughs harshly into the crook of her elbow again. It takes her a few minutes to regain her ability to speak clearly. 

“I felt really, really good being able to take care of other people. It felt like I was making a difference. I guess I’m not used to being helped.” She laughs quietly. 

Sigma is silent for a moment, racking his brain with the right thing to say. “I don’t mind helping you,” he says. 

“Maybe not,” she says. “Fate is a funny thing, isn’t it? I came here with the full intention of helping you see this through… but I guess things are supposed to be different.” 

Sigma feels his throat tighten, and he has to look away from her. Tears burn in the corner of his eyes. 

“Sorry,” she says, gently. “We don’t have to talk about it.” 

Sigma nods. 

“The future you’re making is going to be beautiful.” 

Not without you, he thinks. 

“We’ll get another chance,” she says. “In another timeline.” 

Not if I can’t finish this one, he thinks. 

Diana doesn’t have the time to pull the crook of her elbow to her mouth before descending into a coughing fit. 

Sigma moves immediately to place a hand behind her back, and holds her hand softly until it eventually subsides. By the time she’s no longer coughing, her body is shivering. 

“I’m tired,” she mumbles, eyes half-closed. Sigma nods, throat dry, and gently pulls her head against his chest. 

—

Several hours later, Sigma jolts out of bed in a dazed panic. His head racing, he throws the covers off of himself and stumbles in an attempt to get out. Call it a premonition or madness, but he’s always sensed that a part of him deep down knew when something was wrong. 

“Sigma?” Diana says, voice thick and muffled by the sheets. “Where are you going?” 

“Sorry,” he says, slightly out of breath. “Didn’t mean to wake you.” 

She shakes her head, and he gives her a soft kiss on the cheek. “I’ll be right back— promise.” 

Sigma grabs a flashlight and heads over to the garden. He walks towards planted flowers and shines his light down.

As he kneels down next to the flowers, he knits his eyebrows together and frowns. They look dry— even though he had watered them yesterday. 

He brings a hand to the petals and one falls off with ease. Surprised, Sigma pulls his hand away and looks around. The grass looks more yellow than it had been, and the recently planted flowers don’t seem to be blooming. 

Perhaps he had watered them too much. Was it his own obsession that made the garden look sicker? 

He wasn’t even that knowledgeable about flowers— maybe he had overwatered everything and ceremoniously doomed an entire portion of this terrible fucking project. 

His own ignorance was pushed to the forefront of his mind, every mistake he’d ever made over the past three years on this awful rhizome playing in his mind incessantly. 

Looking down, blood starting to boil and panic rising through his throat and seeping out on his tongue, Sigma grabs a fistful of wilting lilies and rips them up from the ground. 

—

“It’ll be okay,” Diana says quietly, holding Sigma’s hand as they lay together in bed. Another day has passed without her being able to stomach much food. 

Sigma draws in a shaky breath before letting tears fall down his face. 

He shakes his head. She slowly places a hand on his cheek, wiping away a few tears. 

“Don’t worry,” she says, always such a kind person thinking of other people— trying to reassure him, make him feel better, even as her organs shut down. 

Sigma wouldn’t be able to think about anything other than the pressure in his chest if he tried. It’s the worst pain he has ever felt— as if force is ripping his bones one from one out of his body. 

“I love you,” he says, voice shaking. 

“I know,” she says, running her thumb across his cheek. “I love you too.” 

After a few minutes of silence, Diana speaks again with some effort. 

“There’s a million other timelines out there,” she says. “We have so much more to do.” 

Not in this one, Sigma thinks. Not for a long time. 

— (+1)

In May of 2030, Diana takes the lead while Sigma follows her less than graciously across the dance floor at Junpei and Akane’s wedding. 

“I can’t believe you never learned to dance,” Diana says, laughing. “You’ve had so much time.” 

Sigma laughs, a genuine sound that he’s still surprised to hear come from his own mouth after several years. “Can’t cook, either,” he says. “Pre-packaged meals for forty years seems to have completely ruined anything I knew.” 

“I guess we have a lot to learn,” she says, smiling as she leads him in a spin. “We’ve got a lot of time.” 

“You like to garden, right?” he says, more of a statement than a question.

Her eyes light up. “I love it! I’d love for us to have a garden.” 

Sigma nods, thinking about the time they have— dozens of years— _decades_ to be able to learn and grow together; decades together to do the things that he had only been able to dream about. 

Sigma’s mind branches into different possibilities— a garden, learning to dance, or cook, or write calligraphy— all of the things he can do with Diana, right here in the present. As he dances with her, he feels a wave of relief at the life that he gets to live.


End file.
